


Amazing

by GreyLiliy



Series: Whumptober 2020 - Peter Parker [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27221281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: With a broken suit and no communications, Peter is left to carry what remains of the Iron Man armor while Mr. Stark leads the way—but Mr. Stark isn’t going to make it very far when he’s bleeding that badly.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Whumptober 2020 - Peter Parker [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975432
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Amazing

**Author's Note:**

> _  
> Whumptober 2020!  
>  Prompt No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED  
> Blood Loss | Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood  
> _
> 
> The main prompt of “They look so pretty when they bleed” will be covered by myself, because I do love how pretty my favorite characters look when they bleed. This might just be my favorite prompt on the list.
> 
> I chose Peter Parker/Tony Stark for the pairing because the only Whump I like more than Peter Parker!Whump is Tony Stark!Whump. :D
> 
> Thank you for reading and enjoy!

Peter had stopped bleeding twenty minutes ago thanks to his healing factor.

Mr. Stark wasn’t so lucky.

His hand covered the slice on his upper arm to put pressure on the wound, but the blood trickled free past his fingertips. It slid down his arm and dripped to the ground in messy splotches.

Peter followed behind him, being careful to step around the splotches of blood that trailed behind Mr. Stark. Peter bit his lip, telling himself over and over that “it wasn’t that much blood.” The path swayed back and forth, matching the uneven steps of Mr. Stark’s limp, and kept adding new drops to the red.

He clutched to the pieces of Mr. Stark’s armor they had salvaged and worked their way through the evacuated city. Damage surrounded them from all sides, with tumbling buildings and the smell of burnt ashes everywhere. Without his mask, he saw it all in person instead of through the digital screen and with Karen’s guidance.

Peter’s cell phone had been smashed when he hit a building—Mr. Stark already offered to replace it—and Karen was down for the count after he was hit with a new E.M.P. blast designed specifically to counter Mr. Stark’s tech.

He climbed out of the building with a bleeding scratch over his ribs just in time to see the a second blast take out the Iron Man suit, leaving Mr. Stark vulnerable in the air.

Mr. Stark took a direct hit from a missile and was thrown through four buildings, completely wrecking his suit and tossing him around like a kid kicking a can. Peter managed to reach the bad guys and their armory, ripping it apart with pleasure using his bare hands, before he scrambled to look for Mr. Stark. He found him coughing up blood and holding up a hand to say he was fine and asked about the terrorists before telling Peter they had to get out of the area.

That had been thirty minutes earlier when they both realized he needed help and had no way to call for it. Peter wasn’t sure how much longer Mr. Stark could keep going when his blood kept escaping through his fingers.

“Are you sure you don’t need help, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, picking up his pace to walk side by side. He shifted the armor to one side, they weren’t heavy but he struggled to wrap his arms around the bulky pieces without any way to tie them together. “I could help you.”

“You’re carrying the armor and I’m fine,” Mr. Stark said, breathing hard. Peter looked him over, his eyes lingering on his torn undershirt. A large, deep purple bruise had spread over his entire torso. His arm bled on the outside, but how much worse was it under his skin? “You can’t carry me and the suit and still be on guard if more enemies arrive. I am not leaving the suit behind for someone to reverse engineer—whoever attacked us today was already way too prepared. I refuse to give them more ammo if we missed the leader.”

“I could smash it beyond recognition or something,” Peter said. “You can make another suit.”

“I can, but I still don’t want to risk it, kid,” Mr. Stark said. He paused for a moment, swaying before staring at the ground. “Just a second.”

“Mr. Stark?”

Peter dropped the armor and ran to the man’s side as he pitched forward. He caught Mr. Stark in his arms and the man sucked in a breath, holding his chest and clutching to Peter.

“Mr. Stark! Hold on, hold on! I’ve got you,” Peter said. He picked the man up off his feet bridal style and carried him to the side. Peter set him gently against a brick wall and steadied him. “How bad is it?”

“Really bad,” Mr. Stark said. He squeezed his arm, with his knuckles turning white from the pressure. He breathed hard and his skin had turned pale. Mr. Stark rested his head back and dropped his hand away from his chest. “I don’t think carrying me is a good idea, either.”

“What do you want me to do, Mr. Stark?”

“You might have to go ahead by yourself and call for help,” Mr. Stark said. He winced and pulled the tear in his shirt back a fraction. The dark purple skin stretched nearly over his entire side, dipping well below his waist. “Pretty sure I’m making it worse by moving.”

“What if there are others in the area?” Peter asked. Blood drops continued to patter on the ground from the wound on his arm that was still bleeding through the slow-forming scabs. “I don’t think I should leave you alone.”

“I’m not sure you have a choice.”

Mr. Stark’s breaths were still too rough.

He was still bleeding—he’d bled a lot.

There was no way Mr. Stark could be thinking clearly after losing that much blood. It would explain his paranoia about leaving the suit behind or asking Peter to leave him behind.

“I’m breaking the suit and I’ll carry you,” Peter decided. Mr. Stark jerked, taken aback by Peter’s firm tone. “Don’t move.”

Peter returned to the leftover pieces and pulled his fist back. He slammed it hard into the helmet of the suit, shattering it. Peter gripped both of his hands together and slammed them repeatedly until the metal crunched and bent, unrecognizable as armor by the time he was done.

His breath heaved as he stood back and shook his head.

The pile of shattered metal was easy to kick and scrap in the yard. Peter covered it with a loose piece of metal for good measure.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked. The man had been quiet through it all. He turned and found the man staring at him, still breathing hard. “Are you okay?”

“I technically know how strong you are and your lifting capability,” Mr. Stark said, licking his lip. “But it’s never the same as seeing it in person—it’s amazing every time.”

Peter blushed, looking away from Mr. Stark’s direct and admiring stare. He bit his lip and forced himself to remember they were still on a battlefield and Mr. Stark was still bleeding—neither of them could afford that sort of distraction.

“I’m going to carry you on my back, okay?” Peter knelt near Mr. Stark. “Can you hold me around my shoulders?”

Mr. Stark nodded and pulled himself up on Peter’s shoulders to give him room to maneuver the man comfortably on his back. Peter hooked his arms under Mr. Stark’s legs to keep him straight as Mr. Stark gently lowered himself. Once he was settled and Peter ignored how warm he felt, he stood and got moving.

“Is it messed up that I want to see you trash another Iron Man suit?” Mr. Stark asked, laughing twice before coughing. He his fingers twitched as he kept hold of Peter, digging into his costume fabric. “It was hot.”

Peter turned his head so it rested against Mr. Stark’s hanging over his shoulder.

“After you’ve seen a doctor and aren’t dripping blood on my suit, I’ll break as many suits as you want.” Peter made sure not to jostle Mr. Stark too much as he climbed a stack of debris to get to the other side. “I’ll even do it without the costume.”

Mr. Stark squeezed Peter harder and dropped a kiss on his shoulder. “I’m holding you to that.”

“Hold on, Mr. Stark,” Peter said. “I’ve got you, so stay awake.”

“You sure do, kid,” Mr. Stark said. “You’ve got me all to yourself.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” Mr. Stark said. His arms went limp and his breaths grew more labored. “But it’s still true.”

“You’ve got me, too.”

Peter inhaled, steadied himself, and ran.


End file.
